Believe In Me
by ChaseAwaytheNightmares
Summary: This story is also being rewritten. I have a lot of things I need to fix within this fic! It'll be up in another month or so.
1. Chapter One

**Hi everyone! Here's a new story I'm writing! Hope you all like it:)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

Chapter One:

_There is a place that has no light, no sound, no scents, and no air within it. It is said to be a dark and desolate place, full of everything and nothing at once. It was a place known and feared amongst all. Not even the bravest of warriors or kings dared to traverse it, for all who attempted to enter never returned. _

_However, once there was a young man who past through the void and survived. Wait let me rephrase that. There once was not a young man, but a mere child who past through the void and survived. And when you say survived, that is the kindest word used for what this child had gone through._

**_He fell._**

Time froze as the lithe figure appeared out of nowhere and silently fell through the endless tunnel of the void.

**_It was pitch black._**

He kept falling or what seemed like falling. There was nothing and everything in the void. He thought he would find death, but instead he was still alive, stuck in a state of in-between. He had no concept of time as he fell. It felt like days, months, years, and even centuries had pasted, but in the end he still couldn't tell.

All of his senses were blank and useless in this place. No light was able to reach his eyes. No sound was able to touch his ears. No scents could breach his nose. Yet, at the same time everything overloaded his senses at once. He smelt colors through his nose, saw sounds through his eyes, and he heard scents through his ears. It made his head spin, his eyes bleed, and his body tremble. Whatever attempt he made to balance and root himself in place, broke every time. But even through everything and nothing happened, he couldn't feel anything, not even himself. There was no sense of touch in this cruel and terrifying place.

At first he had a nonchalant attitude about his endless fall and pretended that nothing was wrong. That it was all just a bad dream that he would wake up from.

**_He never woke up._**

Soon he began to hope. He held fiercely on to hope that maybe someone would come after him. That maybe his family still cared enough to recuse him. He fantasized that his father would regret the words he said to him. Then he and Thor would immediately traverse through the void to save him from this never-ending hell. Then once he was recused and taken back to Asgard. Father would then tell him he knew the truth about what really happened, and that he was so proud of him for surviving. That he was proud that he never gave in and managed to come out with most of his sanity still intact. Thor would proclaim that they were still brothers and that nothing would ever change it. Mother would pull him close to her and never let go. Cooing out warm reassurances that he was still her son, still a part of the family, and that she still loved him. He imagined that while everything wouldn't go back to normal, things would be better. That their family bonds would strengthen and form even tighter than before.

**_It never happened._**

The hope that he held onto began to dwindle away until there was only despair let to take its place.

**_He began to forget._**

His memories started to slowly disappear. One moment it was sharp and clear like a long stretch of ice. Then it began to flicker in and out like a dying flame on a candle. He recited anything that was still left. He repeated out loud passages of spells he learned as a child, mathematical and alchemical equations he created, childhood stories his mother told him at night when he was young to only just saying his name. He said anything to just _hear_ something.

**_None of it was enough._**

In the end, the one thing that defined him, that let others know who he was, that let him know who _he_ was. He started to forget his name. He was driven to just repeating his name. _Loki. Loki. Loki_. He chanted it over and over, for who was he if forgot who he was.

**_He screamed._**

Loki screamed and screamed until his voice went hoarse and his throat bled. When he couldn't get another sound out, he silently howled out his fears, pains, and regrets. He wished and begged for death to take him, and bring an end to this terrible nightmare he was trapped in.

**_It didn't end._**

The void consumed everything that made him 'human'. All of the hope, wonder, and precious memories that he once had stood no chance against the void. It drained out of his being, like color melting off a painting, leaving only pitch black.

**How'd you all like it? If you guys want me to continue with this story, just leave a review saying so:) I'm still going to continue with Altering My Fate!**

**~Chase**


	2. Chapter Two

**A/N: Thank you for the review starfire201:) Here's the next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians or Avengers.**

Chapter: Two

_Finally, after what could have been centuries did the child break though the void and crash to the ground. He laid there in a small broken heap. His limps were twisted in odd angles with bone breaking through the skin and dark red blood pooled around the child's body, drenching his clothes and raven hair. His eyes, which were once a bright emerald green, slowly drained of all color. The life that once radiated from the boys body disappeared. Death was finally coming to claim the child, after having him wait so long._

The moon watched as death came for the young boy. After witnessing the bravery and sacrifice the child went through, he shone his light down upon him. The boy's body rose in the air transforming. His shoulder length raven hair shifted into a short disheveled spikey-layered hairstyle with semi-long bangs that fell to the left side of his eyes. The silky wisps of hair melted away to jet-black with burgundy highlights. His eyes that used to be an such a dazzling emerald green, changed into vivid dark red orbs. The emerald green tunic, leather breeches, and boots he was wearing vanished. Instead he was adorned in a slim black turtleneck shirt, black skinny jean with silver chains threaded through the loops of the pants, and black leather combat boots. Lastly, a high-collared leather trench coat that had a hood, ended at his feet, and a pair of black leather fingerless gloves formed from the surrounding darkness materialized onto him. The child was gently lowered to the ground again and he began to awaken. His dark red eyes fluttered open and he looked around.

A bright white light was the first thing he saw when the opened his eyes. He groaned as he struggled to sit up. Taking in his surroundings, he noticed that it was nighttime and he was in a field amidst a densely packed forest. _Where am I?_ He wondered as he looked around. Confused he looked up at the sky when the light began to shine even brighter than before. He jumped when suddenly a deep baritone voice spoke to him.

_"Do no not be afraid child,"_ said the mysterious voice, trying to reassure the newly born spirit. _"I chose you for a reason."_

"Who are you? What are you? Where am I? Who am I?" whispered the boy, rapidly firing off questions at the moon in the sky.

_"You were chosen because of the sacrifice you made,"_ the being spoke calmly. The boy became even more confused and he began to get anger. What sacrifice did he make? Why weren't his questions being answered? Glaring at the moon he shouted, "If you won't answer my questions, then at least answer this one. Who am I?!"

_"Luka Keath,"_ replied the moon, its voice fading away to nothing but a whisper on the breeze. Left standing there in the dark alone, the boy screamed in frustration. He called out to the moon to finish answering his questions. Hours passed, when he finally lowered his head and voice in defeat. Shivering when a chilly gust of wind caressed his neck, the boy curled up into himself, and sat down against a fallen tree.

Looking up at the moon one last time, he softly called out, "Please don't leave me alone in the dark." Unnerving glimpses of never ending pitch-black engulfing him, appearing and quickly fleeing his mind. He waited for a moment, but no response came back. As the night sky got darker, he felt the pull of sleep and drifted off into the land of dreams.

Sunlight slowly crept over the forest, awaking its inhabitants up from their slumber. Groaning, Luka sleepily rolled over onto his stomach, futilely trying to snag a couple of more hours of sleep. However the sun seemed to be very insistent, shining brightly on him until he was forced to get up. Stretching his arms over his head, Luka opened a red orb and yawned. He wondered why he was in the middle of a forest. Images from last night flickered across his eyes causing him to curse, anger and frustration violently coarse through his body. What was he suppose to do now? Where was he to go? Luka laid there for a few more moments before mentally slapping himself. What was he doing there pitying himself, what he needed to do was get off his ass and go find the damn answers that stupid moon wouldn't tell him. Luka had a feeling that even though he didn't remember anything, he knew that he wasn't the type stand there and let others help him when he could do it by himself.

Standing up, Luka took a couple of steps forward when he tripped over something. Catching himself, he glared down at objects that caused him to almost fall. It was two matching small ring-shape objects about fourteen inches long and a centimeter thick. They had three distinct sharp blades that pressed outwards on the outer rim and grip for hands on the inner rim. Crouching down to get a better view, Luka noticed that the metal was a brilliant silver-like color. The weapons (well he considered them to be weapons), were engraved with vibrant runes and swirling designs that hummed with energy and radiated an intense crimson hue.

Continuing to study them, Luka didn't even notice his hand creeping closer to the weapon until he had it in his hand. Once his skin made contact with it, a surge of power fluctuated through his body causing him to gasp. His heart beating madly, the power surge thankfully settled after a few minutes. As his other hand picked up its twin, Luka felt a peculiar connection form between him and the weapons; it was almost like a bond. On the spur of the moment he threw one of the chakrams, observing in amazement as the razor disc erupted into brilliant lights of red, orange, gold, and black that formed into a powerful flame with black shadows trailing after when it sliced through the tree it hit, burning it until nothing but ash was left. A feeling of déjà vu was like a punch in the gut when the chakram instantly flew back and returned to his hand. Did he used to have a weapon that returned to him? But his thoughts changed course as he marveled over the fact that even though it still had a few flames leftover on it, his hands weren't burned. However he couldn't shake off a sense of irony that the flames should have burned him, even when they didn't.

Gathering up both of the weapons, he motioned to sheathe them, but realized he had nowhere to store them on his person. Abruptly the two bladed weapons transformed themselves into shadow-like flames that merged onto the palm of his gloves, creating an elemental glyph for fire and runic symbols for night. Staring at his hands, Luka was relieved he didn't have to carry them, but he wondered how he would be able to retrieve them quickly if in a fight. Slowing down his breathing, he let his instincts take over and clasped his hands together, pulling out a shadowed flame from each palm, letting it form back into the pair of chakrams. Smiling slightly at his good fortune, Luka set off to find the nearest town.

**Reviews are love:)**

**~Chase**


	3. Chapter Three

**A/N: A new chapter is up! Thank you RocketKat123 for the Review:)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians or Avengers.**

Chapter Three:

_Broken._

_Crushed._

_Browbeaten._

_Destroyed._

_Crippled._

He could go on and on with this all day, never running out of ways to describe his pitiful defeat at the hands of those accurse guardians and that infernal Jack Frost. Damn them, damn them all to hell and back. He wanted to scream, rage, and scream some more to the world about how unfair it all was. He was condemned to a role where he was always the villain, the bad guy, the monster underneath your bed, or within your closet. Brought down to the point of having parents use him as a way to scare their children into eating their vegetables. Pathetic. When they began to have nightmares about him, their parents, older siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents, hell the whole god damn world would tell them that the boogeyman doesn't exist. That there's no reason to fear him because he's not there and he never was there.

Pitch wanted to do more than just exist. He was tired of having to survive, tired of being forced to hide away like a criminal, living underground just so he could continue this deplorable existence. Pitch wanted to _live_; he wanted to be able to freely walk outside without having to constantly look over his shoulder to make sure he wouldn't be attacked from behind. He wanted to visit his friends and have them visit him. He desperately missed the companionship of another spirit, to be able to converse, play, or even just sit together side by side. However anyone who chose associate himself or herself with him was placed under the scrutiny of the guardians, so Pitch pulled away from them first. He didn't want them to be caught in the inevitable crossfire. The guardians didn't appreciate what they had with each other. They kept themselves hidden away in their homes for the majority of the year, only venturing out on their specific holidays for one night, with the only exception being the sandman but he only ever came out at night, never truly interacting with the children he gave good dreams, and Jack Frost. Goddamn Jack Frost.

But the truth of the matter is that in the guardian's little world, they would prefer if he simply didn't _exist_. They didn't care if he wanted to actually _live_ and not have to _survive_. That he didn't want to keep having to feel like a cornered animal that was bordering on feral and desperate because it kept being pushed further and further until it finally snapped. It didn't matter to them if he was at fault or not. If something caused their precious children to be afraid even slightly, whether it be him or the damn neighbor's dog, the guardians would still be on him in an instant. When Pitch told them that there will always be fear, he wasn't sprouting any random shit, he said it because fear is necessary in order to maintain balance in the world. But those bloody prats think so highly of themselves that they forget that childhood doesn't last forever. Those children that grew up just don't magically disappear and a new set replaces them. They become adults and their still there, still alive and kickin, with other more important things that now affect them besides silly little fears of the boogeyman.

What would the guardians be without fear? Nothing, that's what they would be. They sneer at him with disgust for scaring children, curse him for just trying to stay alive. He needs fear, just like humans need air to breathe. They believe that what he does is cruel and wrong because the kids he scares are young and helpless. Hah! What a piece of absolute bullshit. Look at Frost's little believer and tell Pitch that he isn't helpless. The boy may be young, but he certainly isn't weak or powerless. But they cannot see that. All they see is what they want to see and they want to see him as the big bad boogeyman that terrorizes children at night because he enjoys it.

Fear and nightmare are naught but tools. They are tools used to guide children in making smart and safe decisions. It's a means to show children the cruelty and horrors of the world, but still let them wake up to only realize it was just _a dream, _and what what they experienced _never happened_. Fear can also be used to build and gather courage, for one can only experience courage once they face their fears. And what happens to courage, bravery, valor, the guardian's damn acts of heroism, and all the others if there isn't any fear for them to battle.

Sighing, Pitch ventured out of his lair, peering out from under the mattress at the entrance for a moment to check if the coast was clear. Deeming it safe, he slinked out into the open and breathed in the fresh air. God, how he hated being cooped up in there with all that humid air. He felt so constricted and trapped living so deep underground, but then again where else could he live. Creeping into the shadows, he took a stroll in the more shaded areas of the forest. Although sunlight didn't cause any major damage to his body, just some unpleasant sunburn if he didn't take the correct precautions, he still preferred to take to the more shadowy regions when outside during the day because to him they represented safety and comfort. The shadows were a safe haven, a place where he could lick his wounds if need be and rest. Somewhere he didn't need to fear (yes he said fear, no need to get all excited about it), for his safety. Continuing to enjoy his long time needed walk, he heard a startled yelp further up ahead. His curiosity sparked, Pitch silently crept over to where he last heard the noise. Melting into a trees shadow he peered over and was surprised at what he saw.

**Reviews are luv:)**

**~Chase**


	4. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians or Avengers.**

Chapter Four:

It had been three days. Three terribly long days and he was still stuck in this god forsaken forest. Okay, maybe it wasn't all that bad but still! He should have at least reached some sort of civilization by now. Growling in frustration, he kicked the oak tree in front of him with a little bit too much strength he didn't know he had. Yelping in pain, he hopped up and down on one foot when Luka then noticed for the first time since he woke up that he hasn't felt any sort of hunger pain or other personal needs by now. Slightly creeped out by this new fact about himself, he wryly thought that at least he was still normal in the aspect that he could feel pain. Tiring of standing on one foot, he attempted to put his other foot down to the ground when he immediately pulled it right back up, hissing in pain. Leaning against the tree he had kicked, Luka gently touched his injured foot to determine if it was broken or not. After a minute he judged that he broke three of the toes on his foot.

Slapping his forehead, he wondered what he supposes to do now. He couldn't walk and he was sick of sleeping in this infernal forest. Groaning, he closed his eyes in defeat, not noticing his body slowly rising up in the air. When Luka finally opened his burgundy colored eyes, he was face to face with a small little plump bird. Dumbfounded, his jaw dropped as the little yellow bird flew around him in a circles, finally tugging on his trench coat. Luka counted to three and prayed to anyone that he wasn't where he thought he was, but deep inside he knew that he wasn't that lucky.

Gathering courage from somewhere deep hidden reservoir he had inside himself, he looked down below and saw that he was at least twenty feet up in the air. Stunned, he just floated there for a couple of moments before mentally kicking himself. His problem was solved! Now he could find a nearby town even faster without walking. Laughing at himself he tried to move forward, he screamed as he dropped down in the air by five feet. Shuddering, he took in a deep breathe of air, but it didn't help. He had forgotten that he didn't need to breathe to live anymore.

Instead he counted to three again and repeated to himself that he could do this. Luka looked to the little bird again that was sitting nearby on a tree branch and watched it fly around doing little aerial tricks. Slightly jealous that the little bird could fly better, he resolved to himself that he would master this or die trying, when the bird smacked his face with its tail feather. Mockingly cheeping at him, the tiny bird flew off ahead of him. Shouting profanities at the bird he gave chase, swooping and diving through the air over the treetops. Realizing that he was actually flying, he let out a loud whoop, giggling with a carefree joy that only children knew as he did various summersaults. Too caught up in following the energetic little bird he didn't notice the tall, slender figure following him a little ways back.

Catching up to the bird, Luka noticed that the bird had led him to a small town, grinning he thanked the tiny bird, and flew down to get closer to get a better look. As he floated in the air, he saw a medium sized sign painted blue with big, bold letters that read, 'Welcome to Burgess.' Happy to give name to the town he was in, Luka let his body float to he ground. Landing on the sidewalk, he took a step forward when he realized his foot didn't hurt anymore. Excited, he eagerly rushed over to a older gentleman sitting alone on a nearby bench reading; brushing off any lingering debris on his clothes, he introduced himself: "Excuse me sir, my name is Luka, and I was wondering if you could tell me what the date is today please?" Not receiving a reply, he thought that maybe the man hadn't heard him speak. He tried repeating himself, when the man closed his book, glanced at his watch, and stood up walking right through him.

Luka shuddered as the cold and unpleasant sensation of the man passing through him disappeared, he stood there stunned. Did that just really happen? Patting himself down, he thought he felt solid, so why did the man past through him as if he were nothing but a ghost. Freaked out a little, he ran towards a young couple walking together while holding hands. He stepped out in front of them in hopes that they would stop and see him, but instead their linked arms swept right though him. Becoming frantic, he began shouting and screaming at anybody he passed desperately wishing that someone could see him. Finally he had to give up, it was past dusk and everyone was at home in his or her beds. Pained, he swiftly flew back to the forest away from the townspeople who couldn't see him. Stumbling a bit in the air, he landed in a small meadow lit by moonlight.

Glaring at the moon, he cried: "Why couldn't they see me? Why did it hurt so much when they passed right through my body? What did you do to me?" Frustrated by the silence he was receiving, Luka began to silently cry. Looking at the moon he whispered: "Why won't you answer me?" But all he received was silence. Finally giving up, he lay down on his stomach, forming a pillow with his arms, and pressed his ear against the ground. He could feel the life and magic of the earth humming a sweet melody to him. Giving a tiny smile in thanks, he let himself be comforted by the soothing song, feeling the music slowly lure him to sleep.

Right before he drifted off, the little plump bird he had met earlier landed in the crook of his neck, gently nipping his ear affectionately. Smiling more genuinely than before, he let himself be comforted with the fact that he wasn't completely alone because at least this little bird could see him. Once he was asleep, the dark figure from earlier gently placed an blanket onto him, and disappeared into the shadows.

**Reviews are luv:) **

**~Chase**


	5. Chapter Five

**A/N: Thank you Allinray for the review:) Here's another chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians, Guardians of Childhood, or Avengers.**

Chapter Five:

It was a boy, a mere child who made that sound. The boy was hopping up and down clutching his foot, so Pitch assumed he probably kicked something. Watching the child Pitch noticed he had ivory toned skin that could rival Frost's and looked to be around the age of seventeen. The boy was tall, not as tall as himself but still tall. He had jet-black hair with dark red highlights. It was in one of those 'emo/punk' styles that he had seen recently become popular in certain social groups amongst teenagers. His outfit was intriguing; it looked almost as if had been created with shadows and the darkness from night itself, just like his own. What the hell was he doing anyway, observing this human child, it's not like the boy would be able to see him anyway. Shaking himself out of his observations, Pitch began to turn away, when the child suddenly zoomed passed him flying. A shocked expression flickered over Pitch's blank face as the child began to whoop and laugh as he chased a yellow bird around.

Hmmm, maybe there is more to this child than he had originally thought at first. The curiosity he had formed earlier grew as he jumped from shadow to shadow following the child. The boy looked as if he never flew before in his entire life, the sheer disbelief and excitement on his face definitely suggested that. Why would the MiM create a new spirit all of a sudden? What plans did he have for this boy? As far as Pitch knew, the only spirits the MiM had created were that damn rodent Bunnymund, the Cossack North, the Sandman, that teeth obsessed twit Toothiana, and Frost. Pitch had not been up to anything lately and if he had been, that old fool would have sent his loyal pack of dogs after him. The guardians have a new member already, so they would have no need of another one for quite a while. So then why?Determined to solve this puzzle, Pitch continued to silently follow until they reached the town of Burgess. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose in hopes of quelling the incoming headache that going to hit any second now. Pitch really did have horrid luck. He couldn't help but think why here of all places, why couldn't it have been somewhere else that didn't have Frost as its protector. Ignoring the small voice in his head whispering that this was a bad idea, Pitch pushed onwards.

His suspicions came true when he watched the newborn spirit attempt to communicate with the townsfolk of Burgess. He felt a pang in his heart as he watched the boy be ignored and passed through repeatedly. Pitch knew that familiar feeling of utter despair and icy coldness that would fill your body each time you discovered another person couldn't seen you. Those feelings of loneliness, pain, despair, and so much more over the many millennia's he had existed, had finally in the end clung to his soul like bees to honey. He became used to those feelings, until they dulled over time. But they never went away. He might not feel them so intensely at times, because of the dam he had erected to it all back. But eventually the dam breaks. And it had finally broke two years ago when he had tried to destroy the guardians.

The sun began to set and the population of Burgess started to turn in for the night. The spirit he had been watching had begun to give up on finding a person to see him. The boy retreated back to the forest they had been in previously, speeding off most likely to the place he had first woke up at. Taking his time, Pitch went after the boy easily, the child's fear a bright beacon guiding the way for him through the dark. Upon reaching the boy's location, he almost turned away from the sight of the little spirit screaming at the moon for answers.

It was such a private moment that it reminded Pitch so much of the times when he had done the same in the beginning, questioning why he had to be the one to bring fear into the world only in the end be condemned because of it. But he had never received any answers except; _it will all work out in the end. _That was the only answer he had ever received. Pitch knew the MiM did not create him, but the moon was the first thing he saw and could remember when he woke up. Sneering at himself, he pushed away those thoughts before he dug himself into an emotionally bigger hole than he was already in.

Turning back to what the child was doing, it seemed the boy had tired himself out, and was falling asleep. Pitch wanted to do something that would help the child; because when he had first gone through the same, secretly he had wanted to be comforted himself. He cursed when he saw nothing around him that could be of use beside going over to the child himself. However he knew that right now wasn't the best time when the boy was emotionally distressed. Brainstorming over his problem, he was rudely interrupted when a soft cheeping sound started bothering him.

Looking over his shoulder he saw the same plump little bird that the child was chasing sitting on a nearby branch. Stepping closer to the little bird, he was surprised when the bird didn't fly off. Usually animals could sense the fear and dark aura that surrounded him, so they would run or fly away before he could even take a step towards them. Hearing the bird cheep at him again, he knelt on the ground and held his long-fingered hand out to the bird.

Pitch smirked when the bird tilted its head as if debating the pros and cons to hopping into the King of Nightmares hand. After a few minutes the little yellow bird flew onto his hand, fluffing its feathers up until it was comfortable. Pleased, Pitch held the bird, lightly stroking its feathers when the solution to his problem was answered. Standing up, he quietly slinked over to the sleeping child, gently placing the small bird onto the crook of the young spirits neck.

As a cold gust of wind brushed against him, Pitch conjured a blanket made of his nightmare sand and placed it on the boy. Foolish child, he thought almost fondly, shaking his head at the boy sleeping out in the middle of the forest with nothing but the clothes on his back. Stepping back amongst the trees, he sat down, leaning against one, stretching both of his long legs out before him. Creating a blanket for himself, he made the decision to spend the night nearby the child, not that he was worried or anything, but because he was too tired to make it back to his lair's 's right, he was too tired. Closing his eyes, Pitch felled asleep, dreaming about a little girl with long dark hair in a beautiful meadow of flowers, trying to catch a butterfly she was chasing.

**Reviews are luv:)**

**~Chase**


	6. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of Guardians, The Guardians of Childhood, and Avengers.**

Chapter Six:

_Running. He was running. It was so very dark here in this place, with the barest of light filtering through the crevices of this twisted maze he ran in. His feet pounded on the ground hard as he tried to speed up, his body aching and crying out with pain from the previous nights spent with the Other. Just thinking about all those endless nights with that thing caused his chest to grow heavy and constrict with fear. _

_The Other kept chasing him; he had to get away from it no matter what, that dying would be better than getting recaptured by that monstrosity again. But despite everything, the Other was gaining on him, no matter how fast he ran, he knew it wouldn't be enough, it would never be enough. That beast would find his again and he would be brought before **him**. His wounds began to reopen, blood soaking into the rags he was forced to wear. He was just so tired. His body began to slow down as he rounded a corner when his hair was grabbed and he was dragged to the ground. _

_"You thought you could escape me? That you could escape from my master? Foolish runt! You thought you knew pain from our weekly nights together? Soon you'll be begging me for it again," the Other growled, seizing his hair in a tighter grip with its scaly claw like hands. Pulling out a pair of iron manacles, engraved with anti-magic runes. The Other bound his arms and legs tightly together. He hissed as the runes grew painfully hot, consuming the last remaining scraps of his seidr. Holding his head up high, he spat at the Other's disfigured face, sneering at its hold on him. _

_"You and your pathetic master will never break me monster. I'll die before I beg you or him for anything," he savagely promised to the Other and to himself. _

_Enraged at the whelp's insolence and disrespect of his master, the Other clutched the runts throat, his grip brutally crushing until the prisoner began to choke from the lack of air. _

_"Your screams will sound so very sweet, once I finally wring them from your pretty little throat. The wait that I have to go through, shall be so ever worth it in the end," whispered the Other, in a sickening loving voice, caressing the liesmiths throat with unveiled lust. _

Jerking up violently from his slumber, Luka clutched his chest, his heart wildly beating. He shuddered as the last traces of his dream disappeared. What the hell was that? Luka thought trying to push the lingering words that _thing_ had said to him at the end. Closing his eyes he calmly counting to three, when he felt certain that he had calmed down enough, his eyes opened. Standing up slowly, the blanket covering his body from last night slip off his lap. Feeling something brush against him, Luka looked down and saw a midnight black blanket on the ground before him.

How did this get on him? He wondered staring at it, he didn't believe that he had created it while sleeping. So that must mean someone had to have placed it on him while he slept. Someone could see him! Getting excited about the prospect of having his first conversation with another person, he began to search the forest. But before he could get any further into his search, the little bird from yesterday started to peep at him. Turning his attention the little bird he asked, "Do you want to come with me little guy?" The bird in question quickly spun around, turning its tail feather to him. Realizing the blunder he made, he attempted to compensate, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were a female. Would having a name make up for it?" Hearing a confirmation peep, Luka started out saying any random name.

"Lucienne, Jill, Sorana, Lilith, Garawin, Lyla, Merrill," he recited, but all he received was a disapproving chirp. Frowning, Luka called out a couple of more names, when he finally threw out a random one that got a chirp of approval.

"Leif," he repeated in disbelief, "You want me to call you Leif. After the whole little pouting scene you had because I called you a guy and you now want to go by a boys name. You've got to be kidding me," he grumbled unhappily. After being pecked at in the face by the newly dubbed Leif, he folded. Hastily he cried, "Okay, okay! I give! Leif is a wonderful name, for a lovely bird such as yourself." Finally the onslaught of pecking attacks stopped and Leif hopped onto his shoulder, giving him a smug look that should have been impossible for a bird.

Resuming his search for the mysterious person who could see him, Luka kept walking ahead until he tripped over something. Rolling over he saw that he had tripped on a leg, unconcerned he brushed the debris on his clothes off when he thought about it again. A leg. He had tripped on a leg, meaning that if he could touch that person, then they could vice versa. Realization flooded him and he felt so stupid at that moment. This was the person who put the blanket on him.

Spinning around, Luka turned his eyes onto the figure on the ground. The sleeping man was tall and when he said tall, he meant freakin tall. He had pale gray skin, with glossy short black hair that was slicked back into spikes. His choice of apparel was a long sleeve, black V-neck robe. The man's robe was brunched up a bit at his legs, showing off a pair of black slacks and shoes. The man's apparel felt like the same material his own clothes were made out of. Looking around the area, all the shadows except his own were gathering around the strange man.

Getting down to his knees, Luka shuffled closer to better inspect the man, not noticing him starting to wake up until two luminous gold eyes, outlined with silver opened up. Startled, he fell onto his bottom as the man with the pretty eyes stood up and stretched. Eager to ask the man questions, Luka shot up to his feet and hovered around the man, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

"You know, you have really pretty eyes."

**A/N: Reviews are luv:)**

**~Chase**


	7. Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians, The Guardians of Childhood, or the Avengers.**

Chapter Seven:

Of all the important questions and things the child could have said to the first person that could see him, instead he tells Pitch he has pretty eyes. His eyes were fierce and frightening, not pretty. Silently grumbling to himself, he turned his _fierce _eyes onto the child that was trespassing far to close into his personal space.

"Uh, I mean w-who are you?" stuttered Luka, sheepishly glancing up at the imposing figure before him. Instead the man only raised his eyebrow (A/N: In my story Pitch has eyebrows), up silently staring at him with those pretty eyes. Floating even closer to the man, Luka shook the man's shoulder asking if he was okay when he didn't reply. Receiving only a glare in return, Luka worried that maybe the man had hit his head or something last night, so maybe that's why the man was sleeping in the forest, or could even see him. Putting his hand on the man's back, Luka guided him over to a moss covered log and gestured for him to sit down. Once the man was seated, Luka floated cross-legged before him to wait for his reply.

The nerve of this child, Pitch thought with exasperation tinged with slight amusement. Even when he glared at the boy, silently sending him a message to get out of his personal space with his eyes, the boy only looked at him with concern. He was even guided over to a log so he could sit down! Shaking his head in disbelief that the boy was this oblivious he closed his eyes in defeat.

Even more worried for the man, Luka attempted to try to speak to him again, "Excuse me? Sir, are you feeling okay? Do you need me to fly you over to the local hospital?" Before Luka could continue, the man opened his eyes and looked at him.

"Child, I am perfectly fine. I should be the one asking you if your feeling okay or not," finally answered the strange man, his voice was smooth and silky, sending shivers up Luka's spine. Relieved that the man in question was fine, a weight he didn't know he had lifted off of his shoulder. Shooting the man a happy grin, Luka stuck out his hand and introduced himself.

"That's great! My name is Luka Keath," the boy said, holding his hand out. Taking the boy's gloved hand, Pitch returned the handshake. Looking the child in the eye, for the first time Pitch noticed that the child had eyes the shade of his favorite wine. Clearing his throat, "A pleasure to meet you Luka, I am called Pitch. Pitch Black. I am sure you have many unanswered questions brimming within you. Don't be shy to ask any of them."

Thankful that Mr. Black would answer his questions, he asked the one that had been bothering him the most since he first woke up and went to the town of Burgess.

"Mr. Black, why can't anyone see me?" he said softly, slightly afraid of the answer.

Before Pitch opened his mouth to say anything, he carefully thought about his reply. He could, if he wanted to sway the boy to his side. Tarnishing the MiM's and Guardians reputation until it were black as night. He could make them out as the villains of this story and destroy whatever innocence the boy had left, until he was pliable enough to mold into a weapon against the guardians. Pitch had failed getting Frost to join his side, but this child was a newborn spirit who had only been awake for a few days, instead of three hundred years. This could be his chance to finally be believed in. It might take some time and planning, but eventually he and this child could over throw the guardians.

Or Pitch could tell the child the truth. He could show Luka the whole picture; instead of the guardian influence one Frost was given. Maybe this was his chance to finally have a companion once the child knew the whole story. Maybe he could have a family like the one he saw in his dreams at night. Pitch could teach Luka about the world, the other spirits that inhabited Earth besides the guardians. Well only if Luka agreed, but if the spirit did, Pitch could spare the child all the heartache and loneliness he would experience if he stayed alone. Making his decision and praying that he was making the right one, he began to tell Luka the true story.

Luka for a moment was worried when Mr. Black didn't answer him right away. But his concerns were swept away when Mr. Black resumed speaking.

"It would please me if you called me Pitch instead of Mr. Black, hearing you say Mr. Black makes me feel so old," said Pitch winking. What was it about this child that made him feel so relaxed and carefree. Once Luka agreed to call Mr. Black by his given name, Pitch began to tell his tale.

**A/N: Reviews are luv:)**

**~Chase**


	8. Chapter Eight

**A/N: Thank you xX Love Doesn't Always win Xx for the review:) Here's another chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of Guardians, The Guardians of Childhood, or the Avengers.**

Chapter Eight:

"The Universe is a vast and mysterious place young Luka. There are billions of worlds that stretch out into the far reaches of the galaxy. Some inhabited and some not. Humans are not the only beings that exist in the universe. A being that goes by the title: the Man in the Moon created you child. Once so long ago, there was a time called the Golden Age. The universe was governed and ruled by various groups of stars and planets that were led by families that applauded and appreciated the value of peace, equality, and imagination.

However all those virtues the ruling families prided on became threaten by evil beings called Fearlings, Dream Pirates, and Nightmare Men. The peace of the Golden Age was in danger, so one of the ruling families House Lunanoff swore to rid the universe of the evil that came from those beings. House Lunanoff gathered allies amongst the other ruling families. Soon House Asgard, House Vanaheim, House Jotunheim, House Nidavellir, and House Alfheim joined the alliance. Each ruling family signed a treaty with their promise of aid against the Fearlings. The Constellations, the name of what governed the universe, gathered up soldiers creating the Golden Army, who was led by the High General Kozmotis Pitchiner.

A fierce and devastating battle was led against the Fearlings, Dream Pirates, and Nightmare Men. But finally the Golden Army triumphant over the enemy and won the battle. The Fearlings were imprisoned in a prison that had been built deep in the far reaches of space, where no one dared tread. The General Kozmotis Pitchiner volunteered to watch over the imprisoned Fearlings because someone had to and no one else was strong enough to do so beside him. Many, many years passes by for General Pitchiner. But before I go on with my story let me tell you about him first.

Kozmotis Pitchiner was once married a long time ago before he joined the Golden Army. He and his wife Ava had a beautiful daughter they named Seraphina and together they led a happy life. Other spirits would tell you that Ava fell ill one night and never awoke the next or that she mysteriously vanished and never returned. What really happen was one night as Ava and Kozmotis were putting little Seraphina to bed, an intruder broke into their home. However it was no ordinary intruder, it was a Fearling. Kozmotis shouted to his wife to stay with their daughter while he dealt with the Fearling. But what Kozmotis didn't know was that there was not just one but two.

He subdued the Fearling before him, when he heard a crash come from the room his wife and daughter were in. Frightening thoughts filled his head as he ran to the bedroom and burst through the doors. The sight of his wife's lifeless body defiled by the Fearling met his eyes. He dropped to his knees cradling her body amongst the wreckage that was once his daughter's nursery. The only thing that managed to rouse him was Seraphina's loud cries. Laying his wife's body gently back onto the floor, he picked up his daughter, and cradled her closely to him. That night he swore revenge for his wife and promised to little Seraphina that he would find a way to destroy all the Fearlings so that she would never be in danger from them again.

After burying his wife's body in the nearby meadow she so loved to visit, he fled from their home with Seraphina. The memories he had built together with his wife were too much for him to bear. Her death hit him hard and because of it Kozmotis began a different person. Don't frown like Luka; he wasn't a bad father or anything of the sort. Essentially he was still the same loving man that had married Ava and a wonderful father to his daughter, but there was an undeniable sadness to him, his other half was gone. Most of the time, you would never be able to tell that it was there unless you gazed into his eyes for too long. But sometimes, on special days like his wife's birthday or during his first holiday without her it showed.

When House Lunanoff announced that the Golden Army would wage war against the evil threatening the peace, Kozmotis signed up immediately. He was determined to protect Seraphina no matter what, because she filled up that empty space within his heart and was the only one who could make him truly smile. However the darker part of him wanted vengeance for his beloved late wife.

Kozmotis worked his way up through the ranks of the Golden Army, until finally he became the High General, leader of the Golden Army, loved and respected by all. But Kozmotis didn't care about the people's opinion of him, no matter how wonderful it was. The only person he cared about was his young daughter Seraphina and anyone else who endangered her could go to hell for all he cared. Yes, you might think that he should have cared about the others as well, and he truly did. But his daughter took up most of the love he had in his heart and he was fine with that because she was the most important person in his life," said Pitch shuddering lightly with heartache.

It always hurt so much when he retold this story.

_Flashback:_

_After his defeat at the hands of the Guardians, his nightmares dragged him away taking back to his lair at the bid of the Fearlings. He screamed, cursing the Guardians, telling them with false bravo that they will never be able to get rid of fear. But tonight he thought that it might just happen, because of his failure only torture waited for him back at his lair. The nightmares deposited him onto the damp ground and he waited for the Fearlings to arrive._

_It was horribly cold and dark. Icy air crept through the small crevices that were littered about the lair, chilling him to the bone. When the Fearlings arrived, they forced him to kneel before. But he refused; causing them to let the nightmare's brutally beat him until he could no longer hold himself upright. They soon taunted him, told him that he was weak, that he let sentiment cloud his judgment. That he shouldn't have cared when Frost felt pain when Pitch had snapped his staff in two. His body aching with pain, his temper flared and he snarled at them to fuck off, the Fearlings in retaliation bound his limbs with his own black sand, using it to form chains to tie him down. _

_He knew that he shouldn't provoke them because in the end only he would be hurt, but he just couldn't muster up any care for self preservation for what was soon about to happen. Fighting against the restrains binding him for the sake of appearance, Pitch bit down on his tongue to prevent himself from shouting out when his body was suddenly pierced repeatedly with a dagger from his damn collection. _

_"Is that all you've got you mothafuckers! I bet your mother could do better than this, hell even a fucking four year old could do better that this you goddamn dipshits from hell!" Pitch called out mockingly at the Fearlings, blood bubbling up out of his mouth._

_Enraged they showed him distorted and twisted scenes of a little girl playing with her father, until the little girl began to spout out blood, her bones snapping and breaking. Her body gruesomely transformed into a monstrous creature from the most twisted of nightmares, viciously attacking the man. The same man, now a rotting corpse choking a strikingly beautiful woman with long dark hair, the life draining out of her forest green eyes._

_ Feeling his heartstrings pull for some reason unknown to him he shuddered at the images, but plowed onwards, "Come on! What the hell was that you slimy bastards, are the ickle little Fearlings not capable of a little torture, do you want to send me off on a job to find your mommy so she can show you how to do it better or better yet, how about you let me do it myself? Because I sure as hell know that I'll get more results than you!" _

_Stunned at what he just said, he wondered what the hell was wrong with him, it was like someone else was doing the talking for him, while he sat in the back seat. Was he secretly a masochist? Fuck, they were going to kill him. He was gonna die. Well damn, at least he could check this off his bucket list. He had always wanted to say something like that to someone at least once in his lifetime anyway. And if he was going to do it, then he should go it big, and what better way to do that than saying it his so called masters, the ones who currently have him at their damn mercy._

_Suddenly memories of another life filled his mind and it began breaking the already weak links between him and the Fearlings. A part of him, Kozmotis Pitchiner that had been locked up and hidden away for millennia's took hold of his body, warring with the spirit the Fearlings had created, Pitch Black._

_In the end neither won, instead the two came to a mutual understanding between each other. It seemed that Kozmotis had been the one saying all those things. He had wanted to enraged the Fearlings so much that their hold on the boogeyman would loosen. Pitch was thankful that Kozmotis cleared that up, he was secretly afraid that he might have been a masochist. Because every time he taunted them, the Fearlings gave him a new punishment._

_Kozmotis hearing Pitch's innermost thoughts, mentally smirked at Pitch's internal dialogue. Thinking back on his situation, he knew that if he retook control of their body, he wouldn't be the same man he had been during the Golden Age and that this world was a place he is unfamiliar with. Kozmotis also didn't care for the fact that if Pitch still controlled their body, they would be slaves to those damn Fearlings. _

_Growling, he also noted that he didn't even look like the same person he was before. He had black hair instead of blond and gray skin. Who the hell has gray skin? He also knew that he wouldn't be able to succeed at Pitch's job just to survive. They fed off of fear. It was the source of not only just his power but it also kept them alive. Kozmotis had been a protector of others for the majority of his life, not a harbinger of fear. Doing the right thing was ingrained within him and it was near impossible to override it._

_Snarling at that amused smirk Kozmotis was wearing (and no he is not crazy, because of his amazingly good imagination, both Pitch and Kozmotis were able to talk face to face within a room in his mind), Pitch resigned himself to the fact that even if he managed to keep control by using force, Kozmotis would fight him at every turn. Damn that goody two-shoes. All he had known was fear; he had been created by the Fearlings to be used as a puppet for their whims and goals of ruling the Earth. _

_But over the thousands of years he had existed, small portions of Kozmotis' memories and values it seemed, without his knowledge of it happening slowly influenced his actions and thoughts until they permanently became ingrained within him. Once he had gotten a taste of what Kozmotis life was like before, during the Golden Age and how wonderful it felt to do the right thing, he realized he wanted more of it. He wanted to be more than just the Fearlings damn slave, Pitch wanted to have a life, and not the one the Fearlings offered._

**A/N: Did you guys like it? Remember reviews are luv:)**

**~Chase**


	9. Chapter Nine

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of Guardians, The Guardians of Childhood, and Avengers.**

Chapter Nine:

_Flashback Continuation: _

_Forming an agreement, Pitch and Kozmotis consciousness merged together into a new being that was neither completely Pitch Black nor Kozmotis Pitchiner. He now had all the best qualities, morals, skills, and memories of Kozmotis and the darker tendencies, abilities, and sadly enemies of Pitch, creating a being that was neither good or evil, light nor dark, instead he was gray. He was now at a truly neutral standing unlike before. Oh, if he had to, Pitch (they had both decided before merging they would go by Pitch still), had no problem doing something that was deemed "evil" by the guardians standard, if duty called for it because sometimes it did, and sometimes there was no right or wrong. Just like he had no trouble now with doing the right thing in any situation. If he had to compare himself with something, it would be with a human, because humans could be good, bad, both, or neither. _

_Hissing as another blade pierce his chest, the Fearlings had begun to pour their essence into him, trying to corrupt, and turn him back into their damn little minion again once more. Smirking slightly, he focused the last scraps of his power against the chains binding, forcing them to shatter. This caused the Fearlings to pause for a moment, giving him just enough time to make a run for the nearby shadows and escape through it. _

_Finally free of that hellhole, Pitch immediately travelled to a secret lair of his, well the guardians knew about it, but it was still a secret from the Fearlings. Once he was rested up enough he would travel to his home in London, and yes no one besides him knew about it. The lair he had in the forest of Burgess was the closest one he could reach before he burned out. Slinking over to his bedroom after tending to his wounds, he collapsed onto the bed, instantly passing out._

_End Flashback Scene_

Pulling himself out of that memory, he looked over to Luka, who was patiently waiting for him to continue. Remembering where he had previously left off, Pitch continued with his history lesson.

"Now that you know the backstory of General Kozmotis, let me continue with what happened to him once he began to guard the caged Fearlings. Many years had passed by for Kozmotis and he began to miss his little Seraphina more and more. The little girl that he had left behind to protect from fear was all grown now. The Fearlings took advantage of the fact and used it as an opportunity to escape by pretending to be his daughter. They called out to him nightly screaming and sobbing for him to recuse her.

_"Papa, Papa please help me! I'm scared. Why won't you save me?"_

_"Its so cold and dark in here. You promised that you would always protect me."_

_"Why don't you love me anymore?"_

_"You let mama die and now your doing the same to me too! Why? What did I did wrong!?"_

_"I'll stop being a bad girl. I promise! Just please stop ignoring me Papa?"_

Kozmotis close his heart off and persevered on, desperately attempting to ignore the cries that sounded just like his dear Seraphina. More years passed and the only thing that kept him going was the letters his daughter sent him weekly and the picture of her he kept in the locket she gave him. He read about the life she had been living since he had left her and was thankful that she had a happy one. Recently Seraphina wrote to him saying that she and her husband Leo were going to have a family of their own now, Kozmotis was finally going to be a grandfather.

Content that she was happy, Kozmotis resolve was strengthened and day soon turned to night. Pulling out the locket with her picture in it, he gazed wistfully at his little girl. Smiling at it, he lost himself in thoughts of the past when he heard quiet sniffling. Not again, he thought. He was so tired of them imitating his child. Hours passed by when his daughters voice floated out of the dark cell.

_"Papa they keep putting their hands on me. It feels weird and I don't like it. Please stop, it hurts! Don't touch me there! Agrhhhh…Papa please help me, please!_" Seraphina's tear filled voice cried out loudly in pain, pleading for her father to rescue her like he always did. For the first time since he began to guard the Fearlings, Kozmotis broke, believing that his daughter was truly in there and fell for the Fearlings trap.

The Fearlings crowed in victory. They had finally won and worn down the great General Pitchiner, making sure his heart just couldn't take it anymore.

Kozmotis desperate to save his daughter wrenched the cages gate open, letting the Fearlings escape. As they surged out of the cage, they engulfed his body and possessed him. Erasing everything that made him Kozmotis Pitchiner, High General of the Golden Army, loving husband of Ava, and beloved father of Seraphina Pitchiner.

Seraphina was Kozmotis greatest strength. It was only because of her that he had the willpower to keep on living after his wife died. Her proud smile motivated him to be the best during his training with the Golden Army. Her belief that he could do anything kept him alive throughout the battle with the Fearlings. Her love for him protected his heart for all the long and lonesome years while he kept guarding the Fearlings alone. But at the same time, she also became his greatest weakness as well. In the end, it was Kozmotis Pitchiner's love for Seraphina that became his downfall," hoarsely whispered Pitch, he was finished for the day.

Stretching his legs out, Pitch stood up yawning. Without either of them noticing it, day had turned to night already and he needed some time alone to himself. Telling Luka to get some sleep, Pitch said he would resume his story in the morning.

**A/N: Reviews are luv:)**

**~Chase**


	10. Chapter Ten

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of Guardians, The Guardians of Childhood, and Avengers.**

Chapter Ten:

After being woken up by an eager Luka to continue, Pitch resumed from where he left off.

"Kozmotis Pitchiner was no more and now there was only Pitch Black. His mind became a dark, twisted, and cruel place filled with thoughts of hatred and vengeance that was manufactured by the Fearlings. He was now the Fearlings puppet. Pitch was soon sent off to destroy the Lunanoffs and plunge the Golden Age into a newer, more darker era. The golden age would soon become the Fearlings own twisted little playground wreaking havoc by turning all good dreams into nightmares."

Closely studying Luka's reaction to his part in the story, the child's expression was difficult to describe. What seemed like hundreds of different emotions flicked across his face until it settled for furious yet saddened. Knowing what was going to come next, Pitch mentally prepared himself for Luka's initial shock to disappear and change into fear and revulsion. Instead of sensing any fear that should have been radiating off of him, the child took a moment to study him, finally gracing Pitch with a watery smile full of trust.

Luka smiled trustingly at Pitch and was amused at the astonished look Pitch was giving him. He told Pitch that he should stop being such a worrywart and just relax. That he wasn't going to run off screaming in fear any time soon towards the guardians.

"I'm not disgusted or angry at you Pitch, so stop giving me that look. Yes, I am angry, furious in fact, but not at you. I'm upset at the Fearlings, the Guardians, and the people of the Golden Age. It was wrong of them to burden one single man with a task that dangerous. It doesn't matter that you were the only one at the time strong enough to resist the Fearlings; there were others who could have helped."

"Do the guardians know the whole true story?" said Luka, growing unhappier by the minute.

How does he know about the guardians, Pitch thought puzzled, knowing that his story hadn't reached to that point and he hadn't brought them up yet. He was jolted out of his thoughts when Luka piped up.

"I heard you mumbling about them in your sleep last night and the things you said about them weren't nice. Now answer my question!" Luka demanded.

"Don't take that tone with me child, now I believe most of them do know Luka, I at least know that North, Sanderson, and Bunnymund do," replied Pitch, wondering where Luka was taking this to.

"Then why didn't they do anything!? If they knew that you weren't doing any of it willingly, why didn't they try to get you away from the Fearlings? I don't know much about them yet, but they're called guardians for a reason right? So they must protect something or someone, why else would they call themselves the good guys? Where were they when you needed someone to save you?!" furiously cried Luka.

"I don't know child, after the Golden Age had ended I had been sealed away for many centuries until a curious little moonbeam freed me from my imprisonment. I would assume that the guardians carried on with their lives, leaving me alone because they didn't want me free to spread fear on Earth," stated Pitch, still not seeing why the boy would be incensed on his behalf at the guardians.

"I hate them then. Their immortal and their suppose to be the good guys. They could have done something during all those centuries to help you, but they didn't," hissed the child, his eyes changing to a startling shade of crimson red, instead of its normal burgundy. Pitch wasn't planning on having this conversation go into this direction. He didn't want Luka to hate the guardians and he told Luka so.

"But why? Why should I not hate them Pitch?"

"Because I want you to be the better person Luka. I don't want you to become bitter and untrusting because of something that happened so long ago. I'm free of the Fearlings control now and that's all that matters. Promise me Luka that you won't hold a grudge against them. The guardians may only see in black and white at times, but they usually have the best of intentions most days," implored Pitch, hoping that he got his message through to Luka.

Luka's raked his fingers through his hair agitated, thinking over what had Pitch said. He still didn't like the Guardians method of sweeping the things they didn't like under the rug, but he wanted to make Pitch happy. And if not hating the Guardians pleased Pitch, then that's what Luka would do.

"Okay Pitch, if I ever meet any of the Guardians, then I'll give them the benefit of doubt. I promise I won't hold any grudges against any of them. Unless if they do something one day to make me hate them. I pinky swear," Luka grudgingly grumbled out, taking Pitch's pinky with his own and shaking on it.

Highly surprised at what he was hearing, he almost believed that this was all just a dream, but the smile on Luka's face and the fact that their pinkies were still touching suggested otherwise. Pitch was immensely relieved that the child would give him a chance. A chance no one had ever deemed him worthy of receiving before. Pleased by the boy's thoughtfulness and promise to not hate the guardians. Releasing Luka's pinky, Pitch continued with his story.

"Pitch destroyed everything he came in contact with, he crushed airships, extinguished stars, and ravished planets. The Fearlings hungered for the sweet tastes of fear again, especially the fear of a child. Pitch was sent off to warp children's dreams into nightmares, allowing the Fearlings to feast off their fears. He targeted the Lunanoff son, who had never before experienced a nightmare. But he was driven back in the battle against the Pookas where he almost lost, causing Bunnymund to be the last of his race.

Pitch and his masters began targeting the other houses, choosing to take their vengeance against House Lunanoff for last. Foreseeing the growing power of Pitch Black and the Fearlings, many of the other houses feigned their deaths and sealed themselves off from the rest of the universe, creating what is now called the Nine Realms.

The Lunanoffs, fearing for their son's life, boarded their airship called the Moon Clipper. Sailing through many galaxies and stars with their crew and the prince's protector Nightlight, the chosen destination the Lunanoffs had picked was Earth. A realm the Tsar and Tsarina believed where their child could live a full and peaceful life.

However the Nightmare Galleon, led by Pitch and his crew of Dream Pirates, attacked the Moon Clipper. Ordering Nightlight to take their son and hide within in the depths of the ship, the Tsar and Tsarina battled along side their crew against Pitch and his Dream Pirates. Overwhelmed by Pitch's forces, the Lunanoffs are captured and held hostages. Pitch projected his voice throughout the ship, demanding the prince in exchange or he would end the lives of the Tsar and Tsarina.

The little prince pleaded with his protector Nightlight to let him go to his parents. Nightlight refused stating that his duty was to protect the prince who was the heir to the Lunanoff legacy. Each attempt the prince made to sway his guardian's decision ended up futile. Weeping tears of sorrow, they collected onto the prince's palm forming a blade made of the hearts purest of intentions. Handing the sword to Nightlight, the prince tells him that this blade had the ability to defeat Pitch. After studying the prince for a moment, Nightlight finally agrees, and sets off to end this nightmare.

Nightlight rejoins the battle and fiercely duels against Pitch. Light and Dark clash against each other, until Pitch in the end was brought down to his knees. Piercing Pitch's heart with a blade made from the prince's tears, an intense explosion rocketed through the ship, filling the air with blindingly bright light, sending the ship into a downward spiral towards Earth.

Crash-landing on Earth, the prince was the only survivor of Lunanoff family. Looking around through the wreckage, the prince finds the Sandman's shooting star that he recognized from when he was little crashed onto the planet as well. The prince knew that somewhere on the planet lurked Pitch Black. Seeing that there were other children like himself, he decided to protect Earth's children. Knowing that he would need help, the prince asked the Sandman to join him in a campaign against the Nightmare King," said Pitch. Now that he was finished with the fall of the Golden Age and the rise of what would one day be the guardians, he asked Luka if he had any questions so far.

When Pitch began his story, Luka wasn't excepting to be emotionally drawn into it. To be leaning on the edge of his seat, biting his knuckle so he would cry. He hadn't expected there to be more than one side of the story, but he knew he should have. All stories like this have them. It had hurt listening to Pitch paint a picture with his words; it felt like he was living through each of their lives. He felt the Lunanoffs fear for their child's life. The heartbreak and grief Kozmotis experienced when he lost his wife to the Fearlings. His determination to protect his daughter no matter what and his regret when the Fearlings possessed him.

Luka, as the story had progress, cheered on the golden army as they defeated the Fearlings, cried for the great general Kozmotis Pitchiner and for the little girl who had lost her father. He felt afflicted towards Pitch Black; he was angry that Pitch was destroying the peace of the Golden Age and taking so many lives. But he also felt fury towards the Fearlings for trapping Kozmotis and turning him into Pitch Black, who was now puppet for their whims.

He silently prayed that the Lunanoffs would make it to Earth safety even through he knew it wouldn't happen. Luka crossed his fingers that Nightlight would accept the blade of tears and felt bittersweet when the blade pierced Pitch's heart. He was relieved when the little prince survived, but wondered what happened to Pitch and Nightlight. In the end Luka was glad that there would be someone to protect the children of the Earth.

**A/N: Reviews are luv:)**

**~Chase**


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of Guardians, The Guardians of Childhood, and Avengers.**

Chapter Eleven:

Day's passed since their first meeting and the two spirits slowly began to get to know each other better. Pitch had learned so far that Luka was insufferable in the mornings; he and that damned bird liked to cling to him in their sleep (Somehow they both always ended up next to Pitch while he slept), and the child enjoyed playing pranks on him.

In the beginning Luka had been very quiet and polite when they first started learning about each other more. Well actually Luka was getting to know more about Pitch since he couldn't remember his past. But once he began to become more familiar with Pitch, a mischievous and playful side of the child that Pitch had not known about came out. Since then Pitch has been "forced" to have fun and play games with the boy to keep him entertained.

_Flashback:_

_"I'm bored Pitch, amuse me," Luka whined. _

_"I am not some lackey that you can just order around for your amusement. Go fly off and do whatever little spirits like yourself do to keep themselves entertained," Pitch growled in annoyance, glaring at the younger spirit that had been bothering him non-stop since he had decided that they should get to know each other. _

_Ignoring the boy, Pitch continued to mold his black sand into new shapes. All of the sudden he felt shivers run down his back in a foreboding nature when he saw a mischievous glint in Luka's eye and an playful grin spreading across the child's face. Backing away from Luka, Pitch turned to make a run for it when the little imp tackled him to the ground. Hissing and snarling at Luka to get off, he was promptly ignored as the child sat on him. A newborn spirit that was no older than seventeen years old had dared to sit on the King of Nightmares. God he was losing his edge. _

_Blatantly glaring at Luka, Pitch demanded him to get off._

_"I'll get off you Pitch...if you teach me how to use my powers and fight."_

_"No, now get off!"_

_Just as he was about toss the boy off him, Pitch got a better idea. Smirking sinisterly, he stealthily summoned his black sand and poured it into Luka's clothes, relentlessly tickling the imp until peals of laughter burst out of the child's mouth. Gasping from the surprised onslaught of tickles, Luka fell off of Pitch, writhing on the grassy ground giggling with laughter-induced tears streaming down his face._

_"Pitc-Ahahahah! P-Pitch p-please stop, I'm sorry! I can't ta-ahhahahaha, t-take it anymore! How'd y-you know I hate being t-tickled?!"_

_"Ah Luka, I know your not a fool, how do you think I found out? I am the boogeyman; I know all of your deepest fears and secrets. We did say we should get to know each other better. I say that this counts as such." Purred Pitch._

_"I-Its not fair, I don't hav-ahhahaha, have an ability like that," he pouted, still squirming against Pitch's black sand. _

_Mischievous bright gold eyes met teary burgundy red ones as the Boogeyman wickedly grinned at the younger spirit. "I'll only let you go if…you beg me for mercy Luka."_

_Rearing his head back to give Pitch a taste of his own medicine in the form of a head-butt, Luka was poised to deliver it when a loud screech filled the air. _

_Both spirits froze horrified when they turned their heads to see not just a sleep deprived Leif furiously chirping at them but hundreds of identical versions of the same bird surrounding them as well. Clinging onto Pitch's robe tightly, Luka maneuvered them into a position where Pitch was standing in front of him. "It wasn't me Leif! It was Pitch who started it first. So…I'll just be going now," Luka placating said, while discreetly trying to back away from what was soon going to be an ugly fight._

_"Traitor!" Pitch hissed, but it lacked any true venom to it as he nervously backed up into an elm tree. Noticing that a certain little spirit leaving, Pitch's hand shot forwards as quick as lightning, managing to grab a handful of Luka's trench coat. Pulling the fleeing child next to him, Pitch loomed over the imp menacingly. "If I am to be forced to suffer through this, then so will you." _

_Luka sweat dropped when Pitch's shadows shackled his legs to the ground, flinching when he found no way to escape from them. The large mass of angry yellow plump birds swarmed them at once. Having no time to defend themselves, Luka colorfully cursed Pitch as Leif and her "friends" relentlessly attacked him and the Nightmare King. After what seemed like hours, the merciless attacks finally ceased, leaving two drained and stunned spirits slumped on the ground._

_Rolling over to onto his side, Luka crawled over to where Pitch was laying. Gathering up his courage he gently touched the shocked Nightmare King's shoulder checking to see if he was okay. _

_"Am I okay? I was just swarmed and attacked by a bunch of psychotic birds and you ask if I'm okay!?" Staring intensely at the fidgeting boy, Pitch let him feel guilty for a few more minutes. Once satisfied, Pitch grumbled, "Of course I am fine child, I am the Boogeyman after all, a few birds won't injury me."_

_"Luka, I'll teach you how to use your abilities and fight if you keep those damnable winged rats away from me, if not you can kiss this chance goodbye." Threatened Pitch, swatting Luka's concerned hands away from his person._

_"God your such a drama queen," Luka mumbled._

_"What was that Luka?" Pitch hissed._

_"Uh...I said your awesome and I'll definitely keep Leif and her new bunch of friends away from you."  
_

_"You better have said that, now I know it's hard but I need you to stop staring at my awesomeness as you called it and tell those damn birds to go somewhere else."_

_His jaw dropping, Luka blushed and stopped staring at the Boogeyman. Rushing over to the pack of birds, he asked Leif if they could go somewhere else for a while until Pitch cooled down. Receiving a swift peck to his face, Luka watched somewhat amazed when Leif ordered the other birds to go and flew off herself._

_Smirking at the blush that appeared on Luka's face, Pitch stood up stretching. Walking over to where the child was, the Nightmare King summoned his scythe and swung it at the younger spirit, grinning when the boy yelped and dodged. _

_"What are you trying to do? Kill me?!" Luka screamed while he kept dodging the blade Pitch was swinging at him._

_"Well you wanted me to teach you how to fight Luka, so I'm just starting you on your reflex's first," the Boogeyman chuckled darkly, his grin growing bigger when Luka's eyes widened in disbelief. _

_Swinging his scythe at Luka once more, he chased after the boy, cackling madly with glee as he went._

_End Flashback_

Ah Luka, yes they were indeed getting to know one another very well, Pitch thought as a smug and pleased smile graced his face.

**A/N: Reviews are luv:)**

**~Chase**


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of Guardians, The Guardians of Childhood, and Avengers.**

Chapter Twelve:

The forest of Burgess was enveloped in utter darkness. Remnants of black sand and destroyed shards of trees littered the forest floor everywhere. Luka stood in the middle of the ravaged land, cautiously observing his surroundings in an attempt to root out the Boogeyman's location.

"Come on Pitch, we've been working on my reflexes and stealth for over two weeks! When are you going to teach me how to fight?"

Golden eyes gleaming from afar in the shadows watched the child with amusement as he tried to find his location. It was entertaining, however he needed to start training the child so he could defend himself and so that _bird _would stay the hell away from him. Usually when Pitch trained another spirit, it took them more that just a couple of weeks to learn, but Luka was a natural. If was as if he had learned them in another life and those skills stayed with him even though he didn't remember how to use them.

It was intriguing, the Nightmare King thought as he watched the boy. He wondered what other skills the child had that he could help him unlock. The younger spirit acted playful and mischievous at times, but there was a calculating and wary aura that constantly surrounded him at all times. It was as if he were waiting to be attacked or betrayed at any moment. Pitch believed that the child was probably projecting it subconsciously and didn't even realize what he was doing. Hopefully in time the boy would begin to associate the Boogeyman with safety and think of him as a friend because even though Luka may show a more vulnerable side of himself, he never truly let himself relax.

Silently striding out of the shadows, Pitch brought out his scythe and revealed himself to Luka.

"Take out your weapons and come at me."

Summoning his chakrams, Luka gripped then firmly in his hand and rushed at Pitch.

**One Week Later**

Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he flung the fiery chakram, brilliant flames trailing after as it sliced through the air with so much force and momentum that you could hear it cut through the air. It rocketed nonstop towards Pitch, targeting him as he called upon his scythe, barely managing to block it as the two forces clashed together.

Pitch began to summon his nightmares, commanding them to attack and disarm Luka. Grinning with excitement, Luka watched as the chakram returned to his hands. Sheathing them, he focused on his core as the nightmares surrounded him and directed his power into a more concentrated form. Glancing up at Pitch with a smirk, he let it flow directly into his hands, charging them up. Letting his instincts guide him, he slammed his palms onto the ground, creating a runic ring of radiant fire that swirled around his body, destroying the nightmares that were surrounding him.

Hearing Pitch laugh with something akin to pride, Luka let himself fall into a backflip as he evaded sharp blades formed from black sand that the Nightmare King fired at him. Dashing forward, Luka sprinted towards Pitch, sliding on the ground in front of him as he hurtled powerful red beams tinted with black at the Boogeyman with accurate force. He managed to get a hit on Pitch when he was tackled by a lone nightmare he hadn't seen. Snarling at the creature, he reared his fist back and thrust it forward, managing to punch the nightmare in its snout. Having some leeway instinctively formed a barrier between him and the nightmare. Readying himself to end it, he formed a flame in his hand when the nightmare disintegrated back into sand.

Confused he glanced at Pitch, who was slowly walking towards him clapping. Although he was a bit wary, his chest puffed out slightly when the Nightmare King clasped his back with his hand and smiled.

"You've done very well these past few days training and keeping up nonstop with me. As we fought I've been observing your technique and fighting style. Although maybe in this life you didn't know how to fight, your body still remembers it unlike your mind. How did it feel when you fought against me?" Inquired Pitch, curious about went through his pupils mind.

"I felt exhilarated when we battled. At first it was kind of awkward when I first rushed at you while trying to fling the chakrams at the same time. However once my body got into the rhythm of the fight, everything seemed to slow down and become much more clearer. I let my instincts guide my body and I just knew what I needed to do to. Once I got the hang of it, it felt as if this was my millionth time doing this instead of my first," Luka replied breathlessly as he remembered the thrill he received each time their weapons clashed.

This gets more and more interesting, Pitch thought. This child must have been some type of warrior in his life before. But times have now changed and in this era warriors are a thing of the past and he is too young to be a soldier of this time. Perhaps the MiM brought him back as a spirit years after his death. The abilities Luka has are incredibly powerful, usually a spirit like him only embodies a certain element or aspect.

Frost is an elemental spirit that exemplifies winter, so his powers would range from control of ice, snow, and manipulate of the wind. If this were a normal situation I would say that Luka is also an elemental spirit but instead of personifying winter, his is summer. That would explain why he could control and manipulate fire, even the energy beam he shot at me could be explained by that. But there was something else to it that made Pitch pause. Centuries ago he had met a human mage who had similar abilities to the one's Luka had. Although they were not on par with the child's, the powers the man had varied and delved into different mystical specialties. Perhaps Luka was a battle mage in his former life.

However it doesn't explain his abnormal amount of strength, stamina, healing, and durability. A normal human, even one that was a battle mage shouldn't be like that. At first during the battle Pitch had held back much of his strength and power at he tested Luka. But once he saw that Luka could keep up and match him, he had went full out on the child and never once did the boy falter. Many of the hits that Luka had received should have caused him injury, instead the child looked perfectly fine.

When the Nightmare King had managed to injure the young spirit, the wound healed within the matter of minutes. If humans knew about us they would think that normal because were immortal, but in actuality an injury of that caliber that Luka had received should have taken a few days not minutes. What's the reason for the MiM to turn Luka into a spirit? Where did he find Luka and what is he? Pushing those thoughts aside, he told Luka of his speculations.

**A/N: Hey guys! I hoped you liked it! Please review:)**

**~Chase**


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